Counterterrorism in America

"Hans, calling Hans."

"I'm here. What's the situation?"

"Rick and Max are dead. I found their bodies on the 22nd floor. Their gear and radios are gone."

The sudden conversation on the radio made Owen and McClane freeze in place. They exchanged a glance—someone had discovered the bodies.

They had expected this. It was only a matter of time before the robbers noticed that two of their men were missing after the floor sweep.

After a brief pause, Hans replied calmly, "Got it. Everyone listen up. There are still others in the building. Switch all communications to the backup channel."

The radio fell silent. Owen knew what would come next—Hans would send more men to track them down.

Their best chance of survival now hinged on getting that phone call out. The sooner they contacted the police, the higher their odds of making it out alive. Without a word, both men quickened their pace.

40th Floor

Despite losing their radio advantage, the two encountered surprisingly little resistance on their way up. It seemed the robbers were focusing their efforts on the lower floors, likely assuming their targets would try to escape downward.

McClane and Owen reached the 40th floor without incident.

In the stairwell, McClane pressed his ear to the metal door and listened. After ensuring there were no sounds on the other side, he cracked the door open, peered inside, and quietly slipped through. Owen followed, and McClane gently closed the door behind them.

The entire floor was lined with rooms, just as McClane had described.

Moving in silence, the two men kept watch for any threats. Following the floor directory on the wall, they soon arrived at the door to suite 4008.

"This is it," McClane whispered.

Owen tested the door handle—it was locked. He glanced at the keypad next to the door and stepped aside to let McClane try his luck.

McClane punched in a code, turned the handle, and—

Beep beep beep. The door didn't budge.

Owen shot McClane a skeptical look. Embarrassed, McClane chuckled nervously and entered the code again.

Beep beep beep. Still locked.

"Maybe it's got a mind of its own," McClane joked to ease the tension. He tried again, but the result was the same.

Owen folded his arms. "Are you sure this is the right place?"

"Positive. Suite 4008. I remember it clearly."

"You remember?"

"Uh, well... I was here last year. Maybe they changed the code since then."

Owen sighed. "Great. Now what?"

"Relax. This type of door isn't hard to open. Just step aside and watch."

With a loud bang, McClane kicked the lock, and the door swung open. He grinned at Owen and shrugged casually. "See? Told you it was easy."

Owen rolled his eyes and followed him inside. They weren't too worried about the noise—based on their earlier sweep, this floor appeared to be unoccupied.

"You see? I told you there'd be a satellite phone here."

After rummaging through a drawer, McClane triumphantly held up a satellite phone, clearly enjoying the moment.

Owen examined the device. He had seen satellite phones in movies before, but this was his first time encountering one in real life.

"How does this thing work?" he asked, fiddling with it for a moment before handing it back.

McClane didn't gloat. He entered a PIN code, followed by the country code, and passed the phone back to Owen.

"Just dial the number now."

Owen nodded and dialed George's number instead of 911.

After a few rings, a familiar voice answered. "This is George Chrysler. Who's calling?"

"It's me, George."

"Steven? That you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, I'm at Loyalty Tower—you know, the one in our jurisdiction. The building's been taken over by armed robbers. They have hostages, and the situation is serious..."

"Are you joking? Kid, this isn't funny. You know you can't mess around with something like this."

"I'm not joking. I swear on my badge, George. I'm inside the tower right now. I killed two of the robbers myself..."

After explaining the situation in detail, Owen handed the phone back to McClane. George promised to call him back shortly.

In the meantime, Owen took a look around the suite. It was labeled a "presidential suite," but in reality, it wasn't as impressive as he had imagined. It was just an ordinary room with mediocre construction quality.

As someone familiar with carpentry, Owen noticed the poor craftsmanship right away. He tapped on one of the walls out of habit and heard a hollow thud. The walls were made of wood—cheap and poorly soundproofed. For a commercial skyscraper, it was laughably inadequate.

Shaking his head, Owen muttered something about greedy capitalists cutting corners. He returned to the room, but there was still no call back from George.

48th Floor – Surveillance Room

The room was filled with an array of screens, all of which were currently dark. Two robbers in camouflage stood at the control station, pressing buttons.

Gradually, the monitors began to light up one by one with beeping alerts. In the corner of the room, the corpses of the building's security staff lay sprawled on the floor.

"Finally," one of the robbers muttered, snapping his fingers as the progress bar on the screen reached 100%. The security guards had tried to lock the system before dying, but the robbers had managed to reset it. Now, they had full control over the building's surveillance network.

The robbers radioed Hans. "Hans, surveillance is back online."

"Copy that."

Suddenly, one of the monitors emitted a sharp beep, flashing red alerts.

"What's going on?" a robber asked, stepping closer to the screen.

The other man leaned in, examining the alert. After a moment, he grabbed his radio. "Hans, do we have anyone on the 40th floor?"

"No. Why?"

"I'm seeing an alert here. Someone forcibly opened the door to suite 4008."

There was a brief pause before Hans responded, "Understood. Keep monitoring. I'll send someone to check it out."